


Gunsmoke, baby

by cardiacarrest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adorable Lance Mcclain, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), BAMF Shiro (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Doctor Lance Mcclain, F/M, Fluff, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mafia Keith Kogane, Modern Era, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Other, Pining Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Smuggler Keith, Smuggler Shiro, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Keith (Voltron), cute lance, keith is so whipped, keith is stupidly tall ngl, keith stole a walkman, keith wants 2 tap that ass, lance is a cute dork, lance is also a plant mom, lance runs a clinic, mafia Shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-04 16:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardiacarrest/pseuds/cardiacarrest
Summary: Kogane is a notorious name in the underground. They could smuggle anything and everything in and out of the slums, not to mention when they were hired as extra muscle, they would sure as hell deliver.When they're forced to take an offer from some sour faced gang they'd encountered in the past, things start to get a little challenging. No worries though, the Koganes have a good amount of jackass in their system and with that reckless confidence, Keith Kogane eventually ends up taking down the slum's largest crime syndicate on a whim.When that jackass earns Keith a bit more than just a couple scrapes and bruises, he takes a visit to the city's only discreet clinic.Keith falls hard for the cute boy working the graveyard shift.





	1. keith blows shit up with his semi automatic rifle

**Author's Note:**

> ive literally started so many series this week 
> 
> lord give me the power to finish at least one of them

****

Blood was spattered all over the sidewalk again. Keith pulls a busted up walkman out of his latest challenger's clammy fingers and shoves it in his pocket. Music is playing faintly through the headphones, and in the radio silence of Saint Bernard's dirty slums, it's loud enough.

Keith Kogane heads back to the alleyways-the only home he's ever known-with the taste of copper in his mouth and the tune of Vegas Lights in his head.

****

The Koganes had a family business, one that kept them alive but chained them down to the underground, the darker parts of town.

Now that both the Kogane brothers were orphaned, it was up to Keith's older brother to keep the system running. Their business, you might ask? Smuggling. Drugs, weapons, contraband. They were notorious for going completely undetected, and could even serve as hired muscle if you payed them well enough. Shiro was level headed and could kill a man with a single look, but charming enough to start building their own little tribe.

Keith found himself becoming fond of his brother's new recruits, enjoying how they filled the silence and became a new family for the two of them, but it made him frustrated, too.

After all, in this business, loved ones were just leverage.

_Disadvantages_.

He liked them too much, he liked the softness and morality in Hunk that kept the group grounded, the analytics of Pidge and her keen sense on reading the Kogane brothers, and he knew well enough that Shiro used to _like_ like Allura, though Keith figured that now he just liked the way she kept the group together.

Coran was their manager, keeping them safe and organizing their contracts, as well as calming the gangs' ruffled feathers whenever a problem arose. He'd started out as the leader of a fallen gang, some ancient, forgotten faction, and slowly worked himself up to weird uncle status. 

So of course, he knew that things would end badly when Galra members cornered their group and forced them to take a contract that would put everything his older brother built at stake, but stakes were everything in this business, so Keith did what he could to help out. Even if that meant he'd have to go out of his way kick a few dicks. At least, 'doing what he could' would be his excuse when Shiro found out he'd beaten up the dock manager's son and stolen the keys to the dock office. Luckily, he was a drunk enough to challenge Keith first, and probably wouldn't remember a thing after Keith's fists had put him in a deep sleep.

He had his arguments ready, and a walkman to offer up as a peace offering (just in case).

None of those things would be needed, anyways, because Shiro was a man who (in their mother's own words) 'gave no fucks and took no shit'. 

"You...you did _what?!_ " Ah. Keith was so very, very fucked. 

Running his tongue over his split lip, Keith glanced down at his bloody knuckles and began praying to whatever gods that Shiro was merciful enough not to circumcise him.

"Look-at least I uh, got the dock keys?" The youngest Kogane is beginning to wish he'd joined the debate club before dropping out.

"And what if he remembers?! Keith, you have to stop being reckless! These things have consequences, you know," Shiro snatches the keys out of Keith's hands with a rough sigh. "Just...look, I'm glad you saved us the trouble. Just be more careful with your methods, okay? We don't need the cops on our ass."

Somewhere, Allura gasps.

"Holy shit, Shiro you said a _naughty word_."

Shiro glares at him with the wrath of a thousand chihuahuas, and Keith knows immediately that no matter what missions they're forced to take, they'll pull through.

****

It's tough being a lapdog to a gang of purple furries. 

For starters, their members are among the most disgusting people Keith's ever met. He'd encountered them before, just as Shiro was earning their name a bit of notoriety. Their leader's right-hand man, Sendak, Keith believed, had offered them a contract for human-fucking-trafficking. After Shiro had growled out a harsher-than-necessary no, Keith had lunged for the nearest trashcan and hurled.

That incident might've explained why they ended up on the Galra's bad side, considering how Shiro had deliberately avoided all contact with them afterward. He'd seemed really troubled about it for days afterward, as if worried the Galra would retaliate. 

"You did the right thing," Allura would later say. "They're all disgusting people."

But the real tipping point must've been how there was a crackdown on one of the Galra's major trafficking rings. Keith had watched it on the news, shoving popcorn into his shit-eating grin. They'd left an anonymous tip at the police office, the Galra might've had suspicions it was them, but Coran had worked his magic and directed their attention elsewhere. Keith had watched it on the news, shoving popcorn into his shit-eating grin. 

"Eat it, you fucking cat-fuckers," He'd say. Keith knew it'd come back around to bite them in the ass.

And it really did, considering how low their pay was for this contract. So, Keith figured, they'd just have to settle for cheap service.

That's why Keith was currently sitting on top of a storage crate on a ship with a AK in his hands, while Pidge kept the cameras' blindside to them from the dockroom. It was a two-person one gun kind of job. Well, two people asides from the cute little lackeys Shiro hired as extra muscle.

Except, the half-assery didn't really turn out in their favor. With Shiro off another mission with Hunk, Allura, and Coran, there wasn't really anyone to warn them that the Galra had a lot more enemies than they originally thought. Before Keith could even spot the barrel of a gun pop up over one of the storage crates by the dock, he was already lunging down and yelling out orders to the newbies. Pidge's voice buzzed in his earpiece, telling him there were about ten armed men waiting for him by the docks.

"Thanks for the late warning," Keith hisses, just as bullets start digging into the metal above him, cracks of noise almost like thunder right in his ears. "Pray for me, Pidge. I'm no sharpshooter."

And with that, he pokes his gun up from the side of the ship and pulls the trigger, watching a few men stagger back. There's yelling as their ship reaches the docks, and Keith hurls a smoke bomb (Coran insisted on making some as his weird uncle bonding activity) right onto the wooden platform.

"Go wild, kids," Keith cackles, jumping over the railings and onto the dock steps, spraying a line of cover fire while the recruits behind him begin picking off the peaking heads. 

"Give up the shipment Kogane! Nobody has to get hurt," A voice yells from behind the metal crates. Keith snorts, his gun clicking as it reloads while he moves to cover.

"Little late for that, buddy. Some of your guys are lookin' like swiss cheese."

Shiro would be so disappointed, after all those hours teaching him about negotiations.

Pidge was climbing up to the roof of the dock's office with a sniper rifle in hand, but her eyes widened as she reached the top.

"Keith," His earpiece crackles to life again. "You gotta move to your left. They're trying to surround you. There's twenty now, I think. Keep the focus on you so me and the rookies can pick 'em off."

"Really Pidge, _bait?_ " Keith growls, but complies anyway, crawling closer to the road and letting his trigger happy instincts keep the baddies hiding in cover.

The fight was like an hour long orgasm, really. Being outnumbered was one thing, but being outnumbered and separated from your teammates was another. The leader of the attack (he could only guess, this woman looked like she could crack a guy's skull open with her thighs) charged him, grabbing the nozzle of his gun with a dick-cracking grip and yanking it down hard. His arms stupidly held on and pulled the rest of his body down with him, and before he knew it, a knee had slammed into his chest and knocked the breath out of him.

The fight was a blur, but Keith was beginning to work out the pattern. Left was her preferred side, and counters on her right were flimsy. It took a kick to the face and a punch to the stomach to figure it out, but once Keith figured out the tells, he knew he'd already won.

She moved fast, but Keith moved faster. When she went for a right hook, he caught her wrist in his calloused grip and slammed his foot onto her knee, a firm crack echoing across the docks. He tried his best to contain the gag in his mouth before glancing up to the rest of the scene.

Some guy had pissed their pants. Pidge had shot the wall right next to him, less then a centimeter away from his face. 

The rest were gone, or dead. 

"Hey Pidge...," Keith taps on his earpiece, glancing at the blood beginning to mix with the waves. 

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we should tip the cops? Y'know, since they're like a murder's free cleaning service and all."

"I hope to whatever gods there are, Shiro doesn't make you his successor."

****


	2. angel at the front desk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith gets so fucking whipped
> 
> someone help this poor boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hghghg sorry person in the comments, i don't have an update schedule. but i will try to keep consistent updates, so far this is the easiest story to write. 
> 
> sorry if the characters are out of character! i try but sometimes that's not enough haha

****

Shiro's mother hen instincts kicked in the second Keith was staggering home, one arm cradling his favorite gun and the other holding onto Pidge for support. He had a bad nosebleed, and red, blotchy bruises were beginning to form. 

"Christ. It feels like my face's is about to fall off...," He mutters, plopping down on the couch in their hideout. His eyes were still trying to focus after that crazy woman's kick to his face. Shiro kneels in front of him and shines a light into his eye, holding it in place while Keith tries to swat it away. After a long silence, he speaks.

"There's a clinic in the city that serves anyone and everyone, criminals or not, it's in the alleyway next to the gas station. Go get yourself patched up and don't cause trouble, alright?" 

"C'mon Shiro, it's not that bad. Give it a week-"

"Just do it, Keith. I'm sorry. We should've sent more people....," Shiro glances at the bruises starting to darken on his cheek, guilt in his eyes.

"It's not like they gave us enough money to hire the good mercs, anyways. Don't worry about it, 'kay? I know you got a weird stress kink but you don't always have to take the blame."

And with that, Keith forces himself to his feet, his muscles beginning to burn and tense from exhaustion. He waves a bloody hand as a goodbye once he limps out the door, his other hand reaching out for the worn handlebars of his motorcycle.

Keith swallows down the taste of iron as he speeds across the street.

****

It's midnight when Keith reaches the clinic, the buzzing of the gas station lights starting to fuck with his calm. Little patches of the cobalt sky peak out from behind the towering buildings and neon lights, stars peaking from behind smoky clouds. Keith ends up parking his motorcycle in the alleyway behind a few of the plants, sticking a lock on it for good measure.

The smell of cheap beer and piss that usually accompanied alleyways in Saint Bernard were nowhere to be found in this one. In fact, it was rather clean. Ceramic pots of herbs and flowers lined the outside entrance and inside the alleyway, stopping just when the sun couldn't reach any further. There was a faint smell of apricots and vanilla, and more importantly, warmth radiating from the doors in the back. Keith was in a state of shock, he was expecting drunkards to be lying on the cold concrete outside, broken glass littering to walkway. What he got instead were cute little handmade signs and fairylights guiding to way the the clinic's entrance.

His gloved hand pushed open the door at the end of the alleyway, a sweet little tingle ringing out from above him. There's a boy curled up at the front desk, curly brown hair tucked aside to reveal a distracted, navy blue gaze and a constellation of freckles spanning his nose and cheeks. Keith stands there, stupidly, trying to say something but kept silent by the utter _beauty_ of the boy in front of him.

The scene is so candidly perfect, a sweater way too big is hanging off his freckled shoulders and a candid smile graces his features. Keith realizes he's forgotten to breathe, and ends up choking with an awkward cough. The boy's blue gaze snaps up from the computer in front of him to the bloody, beat up Keith in the doorway. 

"I-uhm..," Keith tries, giving up the second he sees the boy blush in embarrassment as he stammers out apologies.

" _Dios mío,_ I-I'm so sorry _Ididn'tseeyouthere_....oh god that looks bad...," Keith knows he's done for the second a honey-sweet voice snaps his attention back to the real world.

"Don't worry about it doc, not being seen is part of my job. Wanna come kiss these boo-boos for me?" Keith is praying to any and every higher being listening that this fucking _angel_ of a person could even _consider_ putting his lips on him.

"O-Oh, uhm...of course! You are...?" 

"Keith. Though I'm more interested in _you_ , at the moment," Keith can't resist the wolfish grin that tugs at his lips, enjoying the way it makes the cute little front-desk boy blush harder.

"A-Ah...well I'm Doctor Mcclain. Though most patients here just call me Lance," And _Lance_ is getting up, holding open a door to the checkup room with a sweet smile on his lips.

_Ahhhh fuck,_ Keith is so screwed. He can only follow Lance stupidly, his gaze traitorously getting lower and lower, fixing on the way Lance's hips move side to side with each step.

"Soooooo _Keith_ , gonna tell me what happened?" He motions for him to sit on the cushioned table, rolling up his sleeves as he moves to touch Keith's cheek, examining a forming bruise. Keith swallows down to urge to pull him into his lap and starts thinking up some cheap excuses.

"Friendly neighborhood scuffle? Well-as friendly as this neighborhood gets," Keith coughs again, his voice sounding hoarse and a little too turned on.

And someone pray for Keith's heart because Lance fucking _giggles_ , a melodic sound like chimes in the wind. Keith had gotten so used to the loud clanging of gunshots and ricocheting bullets that he'd long forgotten the last time he'd heard something this gentle. Not even music could match Lance's frequency.

"Got hit in the head, huh...? Here," Lance hands him a tissue box, smiling warmly at Keith's grateful look. Just as he presses a tissue to his bleeding nose, Lance shines a light into his eyes and his eyebrows cutely knit together in thought.

"Are you feeling dazed? Confused?" His voice is getting softer, and it's making Keith's gut burn with the urge to start spouting proclamations of his undying love. Too bad he didn't pay much attention to his English class' Shakespeare unit. It would've worked wonders on his poetry.

"Not really...wanna get closer? To, I dunno, make sure?"

Lance blushes again, averting his gaze to anywhere but Keith.

"Nauseous? Hard time focusing? Blank memory?" Lance's fingers are in his hair now, looking for any bumps or bruises. Keith leans into the chaste touch, a sly smirk on his lips.

"Hard time focusing," Keith murmurs, looking back at Lance. "But that's just 'cause of you."

"U-Uhm...S-Sensitive hearing? Do you have a headache?" God, Keith wants to pull him close and count his freckles. 

"Nope. This lady kicked me in the face but she didn't break anything. She has a damn good left hook, though. Got me in the stomach real good."

"Ah. C-Can I...?" Lance points to his shirt, and Keith chuckles as he nods. Lance's fingertips brush against his bruised abs as he pulls it up, though Lance is too focused on the bruise to notice Keith's hungry stare.

"Normally bruises take about two weeks for bruises to disappear entirely...that means the body's reabsorbed the blood released. How hard was the impact?"

"I braced for it so don't worry, it wasn't hard enough to make me spill my guts. Still hurts like a bitch, though."

"I'm gonna go get you some anti-septic...it might sting a bit."

Keith grins.

"I'd let you drag me to hell if it means you'd hold my hand, and I certainly wouldn't mind a little sting if it gets you any closer t'me," He murmurs, watching in predatory delight as a deep, rosy hue spreads across Lance's freckled cheeks. 

"I-Is that a pickup line...?"

"Comes from the heart, babe," _And it really did._ Keith had never met anyone who could get him to act like this.

Lance turns away to hide a beautifully shy smile, reaching for the cupboards. He returns with a small white pack and an ominously red bottle labeled "BETADINE". Keith was about ready to die. Shiro had used that stuff on him when they were kids, back when Keith would come home with bloody tears in his jeans and scraped palms from falling off of his skateboard. That shit _stung_.

But it was worth it, seeing the apologetic glance in Lance's eyes from such a close proximity. His fingers worked like magic, quick and keeping the pain to a minimum. When he moved to work on a cut on his cheek, Keith quickly caught his wrist in his gloved hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his palm. Lance let out the cutest squeak ever known to man, but didn't pull away. In fact, a fond smile spread on his lips, a reward for Keith's risk-taking.

When Lance finished up, he refused any payment, saying that there wasn't much to fix and he was going to close up soon anyways. Keith still insisted, slipping him a hundred dollar bill and a little sticky note with his number written in black ink.

Keith knew he was absolutely fucking whipped, there wasn't a single way he couldn't be, not with the way Lance was smiling shyly at him.

Just as Keith turns to leave, he has the absolute pleasure of hearing Lance stutter out his name.

"K-Keith, wait...," And just like that, as if under a spell, Keith whips back around. The angel moves forward, right until he's pressed up against Keith's chest.

"You u-uhm...wanted me to kiss your boo-boos?" Before Keith can even murmur the most loving 'yes' known to man, Lance shifts onto his tiptoes, hands still on Keith's chest to keep balance, to press a gentle kiss to his bruised cheek.

_"Holy shit,"_ Keith whispers.

"Stop by some time and I'll do it again...," And with that, Lance sends him the sneakiest little smirk and Keith's heart fucking stops. 

_"Oh, you fucking bet I will."_

Keith doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feeeeedback? pretty please?
> 
> support from you guys is heckin' amazing, considering i only started posting stuff on here a month ago.
> 
> i love you all ;)


	3. of one liners and nightmare seeds of doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith plans on chasing down the angel from the clinic, in all of his angelic glory.
> 
> also some team bonding in the first bit.
> 
> also mentions of bright pink dildos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took way longer than i needed with this one
> 
> thank you guys for all of the love and support! it kept a dusty fucker like me going.

****

The warm, yellow glow of a cigarette would be the only color Keith could see in the slums for a while. It flickered between his fingers, the smoke rising through the dim streetlights. It was some ungodly hour and Keith woke up in a cold sweat, feeling little remnants of his most recent nightmare still sinking its claws into his subconscious. 

The cold night air felt even icier with the sweat keeping his shirt plastered to his skin.

_Lance would make this better_ , his brain traitorously thinks. Guilt began crawling up his throat when he remembers that he hadn't told Lance who he really was. Keith took a deep drag and shut his eyes, frustration racing around his mind.

_He wouldn't want me._

His hands start trembling. Just a little bit.

_He wouldn't want me, or the body count I've got on my record._

Keith can't swallow down the regrets this time. His head leans back against the cool metal post of one of the streetlights, a rough sigh dragging itself from his lips.

_He wouldn't want me. But fucking hell, I want him. I want him so much._

Lance, he realizes, was a wave of ocean blue. A wave of blue coming to wash the bloody red off his fingers and out of his life. Keith had never even seen the ocean, but he knew that Lance was made out of waves. _He had to be_ , with the way the sun had kissed his skin and spread freckles across his face and shoulders. _He had to be_ , with the way his hair always looked so perfectly windswept. _He had to be_ , with the way he'd only known Keith for an hour and a half and managed to occupy his every thought, even now, at five in the morning.

Keith does his best to ignore the ache in his throat when he heads back inside the hideout, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his boot.

****

"You sound happy today."

His earpiece buzzes for the fifth time since they'd left on a mission, this time in the middle of a scuffle. Keith had his gun jammed down someone's throat when Hunk's voice sounded in his ear in the same stupidly smug tone everyone had been speaking to him in today. 

"Fuck off dude, my gun was getting a blowjob here...," Keith mutters, pulling the trigger just as the guy starts to scream.

"Gross, was that a gunshot? Oh _ewwwww_ , now I'm thinking about how bullets are basically gun jizz."

"If you don't stop talking about gun jizz in the next five seconds Hunk, my gun's gonna _jizz_ all over the paifala your mom gave us," Keith growls, left hand jerking the gun as he reloads. He hears Hunk's sharp gasp over the connection.

" _Keith_...you wouldn't dare. You love that paifala just as much as I do."

"Ah. You're right. My gun would have to settle for jizzing all over _you_."

Pidge chokes on a laugh somewhere distant. And judging by the gunshots that ensue, she's blown her cover.

"Fuck both of you guys, now I gotta find another roof to snipe these fuckers on, they found me!"

Keith starts shaking while he holds in laughter, and judging by Hunk's wheezing, he's trying to do the same thing.

"I'm telling Shiro that you blew your cover over a fuckin' _jizz joke_ ," Keith snorts, pulling back behind a wall as he watches the enemy gang's guards rush over to where the sound of gunshots are echoing through the pier.

"Don't you fucking dare," Pidge hisses, footsteps in the background.

"Back to my original observation," Hunk speaks up again, and Keith knows he can't worm his way out of Hunk's prying. He anxiously waits for whatever horrible assumption he might've come up with while he sneaks up on an unsuspecting guard. 

"Keith sounds weirdly happy today, dontcha think, Pidge?"

There's more gunshots on her end before she answers.

"Hell yeah. Where's the real emo Keith and what'd you do to him?"

"I'm still Keith, Pidge. They day I stop wearing black will be the day I die if one of you assholes gets to dress me."

"Is this because of the bright pink dildo argument we had on Saturday?" Pidge almost sounds offended, almost as if she wasn't currently pumping someone full of bullets.

When Keith reaches the guard, he yanks the gun from his hands and steps on it, an arm coming up and pressing _hard_ around his neck, the other hand pinning his hands and covering his mouth.

"Yes, this is _especially_ because of the bright pink dildo argument we had on Saturday," Keith growls, and he realizes now that he'd just yelled that right in his poor victim's ear. _It must suck to die with those words being the last thing you hear_ , Keith thinks.

"My point is, Keith, have you gotten laid recently? You wouldn't be this happy unless you've finally broken out of your three year dry spell," It's Hunk's teasing voice this time. Keith curses as he spots more enemies surrounding Pidge's location, so he yanks a smoke bomb off his belt and throws it as far as he can get it, and it miraculously lands right behind two unsuspecting attackers. Pidge sees the cloud form and immediately switches her gun, spraying into the gray smoke. When it clears, Pidge looks at the two dead bodies with a triumphant smile, giving Keith a thumbs-up.

"Fuck off, Hunk. I met this fucking angel at the clinic last night. Haven't been able to get him off my mind since. You happy now?" Glancing around one last time, it seems they've left yet another bloody mess for the cops to clean. This gang in particular really seemed to want their cargo bad... _or to eliminate them_. He'd have to tell Shiro that the same gang had attempted to ambush them again.

"Angel, huh Keith?" He could fucking hear the irritating grin in Hunk's voice. 

"Well after this I'll be seeing him anyways. I'm functioning on half an hour of sleep at the moment and I need 'im to kiss it better."

"Gross, Keith. I can't fucking un-hear that...," Pidge groans and Keith cackles at her suffering, giving him the energy to drag his sore muscles back to one of the open storage containers, where his motorcycle was parked.

"Go get him, tiger," Hunk chuckles.

"He's gonna eat him _alive_ ," Pidge mutters.

****

Keith's heart misses a beat when he sees the way Lance beams at him. The boy's wearing a cropped sweater today, a delicious sliver of skin just above his waist catching his eye. Lance flushes a bit when he sees the way Keith is staring, but still moves to kiss him on the cheek anyways. There's a few other patients this time, an old couple, a beat up kid, some middle aged woman and her dog. A woman that looks startlingly like Lance is speaking to some of them, wrinkles in her soft smile and a pencil tucking back graying strands of hair.

"'m not really hurting today, doc. Just wanted to see you," Keith murmurs, getting a bit more distracted than he'd like to admit by the cute, flustered smile beginning to crawl onto Lance's features.

"I'm u-uhm...I'm not actually working right now. I just came to water the plants. I-If you want, we could go out somewhere, th-though I don't have much money so-"

"Don't worry about it," Keith whispers, a smile ghosting after his words. "I'll treat you. Just tell me the place, I'll drive us there."

"N-No, you couldn't possibly-"

"No buts, babe."

"I was thinking we could go to the beach? I-If it's not too much, I know it's far-"

"I've never seen the ocean outside of those stupid docks we've got lying around in my part of the city, 'sides, a scenic drive would be nice," Keith cuts him off before he can worry any more, and presses a kiss to Lance's soft, brown curls. 

"Ahhhh...Mijo, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend?" He hears a warm voice ring out from behind them. Keith instinctively turns and pulls Lance behind him, reaching for the hidden knife strapped discreetly under his belt, but the woman from before comes into view with a reassuring smile on her face. She doesn't flinch under Keith's murderous gaze.

"Good guard instincts...I'm Signy Mcclain. What's your name, boy?" There's the same melodic warmth in her voice as he'd heard in Lance's. He can only assume this was his mother, though she somehow had a powerful presence. Speaking of the boy, another adorable flush was crawling up his face. Just as he opened his mouth to speak to the woman, Keith cleared his throat awkwardly, sending her an apologetic glance.

"Keith," It's short and sweet, and spares him the agony of her knowing his last name.

"Keith...? " So much for remaining hidden.

This was Lance's mother. And Keith had never wanted someone so hard in his life, so it would be rather anti-climactic if they were forced apart by this woman's motherly instincts and Keith's terrible lying abilities.

"Kogane."

It's murmured, as if it was a spell that could summon the devil if spoken too loudly. And it was, in some parts of the city. Everyone in the room must've known this, because a deafening silence fills the clinic. Keith swallows down his urges to call it a joke and sweep Lance off his feet, searching Lance and his mother's expressions.

Lance looked a bit pale. Shocked, but not afraid. Which was strange, regarding the infamy Keith's family had gathered over the years. His mother only looked curious, as if the word had piqued her interest just the smallest bit.

"...I figured. You Kogane boys have a rough feel to you. Messy hair, bloody smiles...I've had three generations of you boys walk into my clinic, you know."

At this, Keith's eyes widen. 

"Always getting beat up in fights, sometimes dabbling in vigilante-ism. Those in your family have always had a knack for getting into trouble," The woman continues, a trace of laughter hiding in her voice. Beside him, Lance looks a tad embarrassed seeing as he'd hadn't thought of asking Keith for his last name in the first place. Keith squeezes his hand reassuringly, content to watch the tension melt away from Lance's shoulders.

"We-ah....we make money where we can and serve as law in places the police can't reach," That's half the story, at least. There's a twitch of a memory suddenly making his words harder to swallow, flashes of cool night air and post-nightmare smoke breaks, fear of losing someone he'd begun ache for so maddeningly quickly. Keith swallows, and his conflict must be showing on his face because Lance's hand is reaching up into his unkempt hair with an affectionate caress that makes Keith fucking melt immediately. 

_He can't remember what he was afraid of_ , not when an angel he'd only known for a few hours or so was touching him so tenderly. Fuck, Lance was so _soft_. Keith glanced back at the woman-Lance's mother-with an apologetic smile.

"Don't worry, we won't press you for details. You must already know our rather wild spectrum of patients if you knew to come here. Have fun on your date, you two!"

Lance lets out a delicious squeak when Keith swoops him up off his feet, the little front desk angel hiding his face in the taller boy's neck when he hears his mother cackling with mirth. The doors jingle when Keith pushes them open with his back, and he lets Lance down only when they reach the end of the alley, pleased to see that his motorcycle was still where he parked it, unscathed.

"I...I was practically raised by the beach. When the streets became too difficult to travel alone, I guess no one in my family wanted to risk taking me there...and I didn't want them to have to pay the tolls. The highwaymen that tax travel between districts here make life more difficult than it has to be," There's a wave of sadness that gleams in Lance's eyes, the navy blue of his irises swirling and crashing like the ocean in a storm. Keith keeps down the new surge of anger and hands Lance a helmet, casting a sympathetic gaze to where the smaller boy was looking back at him nervously.

"I'll take care of them," Keith murmurs, swinging a leg over the motorcycle seat and gesturing behind him. Lance follows, albeit a little clumsily. Keith doesn't stop a fond smile from spreading across his features when Lance is pressed against his back, a small pastel blur against dark leather. "I'll keep you safe." 

It's a vow.

And Keith's heart does a backflip when he hears Lance giggle from behind him, cute brown curls tickling the base of his neck as Lance rests his chin on Keith's shoulder.

"You act so scary sometimes, mister _Kogane_." 

Lance yelps a bit as Keith suddenly makes the engine growl with a flick of his wrist. The smaller boy pouts at the devilish grin on Keith's face.

"...but I know you're just a big, emo softy."

When Keith starts driving a little faster, out of embarrassment and the urge to see Lance squirm.

"Who are y'callin' emo, Lance?" He growls out, a challenging tone to his voice.

"You," Lance giggles again, and Keith knows he's so fucking whipped because he suddenly feels a burst of pride from being the one to make Lance laugh like that. "You wear leather jackets and ride a motorcycle...that's already a bit biker emo-esque to me." 

_"Oh, 's that right, doll?"_

There must be something in the way his hoarse voice appeals to Lance, because he feels the smaller boy shudder and hears him swallow down a shaky breath.

"D-Do....D-Doll....," Lance stammers adorably, bottom lip sticking out in a cute pout of protest. 

"Y're just as cute as one," Keith shrugs, enjoying the view in his rear mirror with sick delight as Lance flushes deeply.

"You think you're the only one with those gross pickup lines?" Lance huffs, averting his gaze. "I've got one." 

"Lemme hear it, babe."

"I get why you're in the smuggling business," Lance glances back up at Keith through the mirror, uncertainty in his pause. Keith just raises a brow for him to continue, watching in amusement as he chokes out the next part with a deep blush on his cheeks.

"You've stolen my heart."

And Keith knew damn well it was the other way around.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> paifala: a samoan pastry made of coconut milk, pineapple, flour, and butter.
> 
> yes d8 comin next chapter and also lance meets keith's team probably. that or BAMF lance comes out >;)

**Author's Note:**

> can you guys take a moment and just
> 
> appreciate how amazing you are
> 
> like honestly
> 
> human beings are so beautiful 
> 
> uhhhhfollowmeonwattpad@leftoverfrenchfries
> 
> also gimme feedback i wanna hear what you guys wanna read. what'd ya like? what'd ya h8?


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